I could make you fat. Yep, I said it -- coming into contact with me and befriending me could make you fat. According to a study published in the New England Journal of Medicine in July 2007, "the obesity epidemic can spread like a virus through social networks. When a person becomes obese, his friends and siblings are likely to gain weight as well." James Fowler, one of the study's authors and a professor at the University of California San Diego commented: "We were stunned to find that friends who live hundreds of miles away have just as much impact as friends who are next door."
So what does this mean? Should thin people start dodging their heavier counterparts hoping not to spark a conversation about, well, anything, in hopes of keeping their figures? Let's hope that's not the case, and that fat-phobia will not become more widespread because of this study. It is important to note that I do not wish to condemn the thin life (many of my friends are thin and we have mutual respect for one another's bodies) or to deny the existence of an obesity crisis, but rather to raise awareness about the word fat and even about eating disorders, as I suffered from bulimia for 10 years.
Many presidential hopefuls are staking part of their claim to the presidency on the idea that they think they can tackle the obesity epidemic. But do I (and other people) necessarily need to be tackled as a social problem?
As a plus-sized African-American woman at Dartmouth, it is already hard enough to be pleasantly plump on this campus for several reasons. First, there are very few people of that nature on campus, and everyone appears to be severely image-conscious -- including myself. As a freshman, I struggled with my self-esteem, and every time I looked into the mirror I saw all of the things I could change and nothing that I liked. I got caught up in the "thin craze" -- which feels something like the Twilight Zone sans the glamour and intrigue. I thought that starving myself or having my head in the toilet would ease my troubles -- I would lose weight, the girls wouldn't talk about me and the boys would date me. I still haven't gotten that boyfriend. I don't think men at Dartmouth are really into F.A.T. girls (Mo'Nique's expression for plus-sized women -- Fabulous And Thick.). Very few plus-sized women here are dating and it took me a long time to stop wondering what was wrong with me, and to instead shift the problem to what is wrong with Dartmouth boys. Outside of Dartmouth I'm valued -- I'm about to earn an Ivy League degree, I have morals, I can hold an intellectual conversation while creating a meal and I have a swagger that men outside of New Hampshire just can't resist.
I won't get into the why-am-I-single argument and begin terrorizing men on campus in hopes of getting a date; that's not the point. The point is that there is room for Dartmouth to change its fat-phobic ways and stop hiding the fat people. How often is there someone plus-sized in one of the pictures on the Dartmouth website? How often does the message that it's okay to be who you are come across?
Various college factions like the Eating Disorder Peer Advisors can only do so much to change the attitudes of students; to some degree, students have to challenge themselves. Smile or even wave to someone you don't know -- perhaps (gasp) to a fat person. I promise that you won't gain that pesky five pounds. You might even have a meaningful conversation. At first it might be awkward, but perhaps at some point you may begin to enjoy yourself. Just try it. But if you need a teacher to school you in the ways of the F.A.T., just shoot me a blitz.
